Corvus
by EatsBabies
Summary: Cursed and desperate, Einar Hauksson records the events leading up to his end in captivity. The first of a series of short stories set in the time of the first war, following a desperate search for the artifacts which might save his soul.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: **I disclaim all things great and small, except the stuff I made up. That's all mine, so hands off

**Scene ****1.****Sticks and Stones**

The pain in my head; It rules me, although not in all ways. Not yet.

You see, ahh ... How to say it? Perhaps it is best to start with myself. Who I am, and why I search for the stones. I assume you are confused, good. Confusion leads to humility, which leads to respect. Two things that I confess I sadly lacked, though you would not have thought it to talk to me.

Who am I you might be asking; a good question. To the world I present myself too each day I am Einar Hauksson. Does this help? Of course it does not, unless you are moving in pureblood circles or the upper levels of the ministry this name would mean nothing to you. And if you think you know me, let me assure you that everything you assumed is wrong. Einar Hauksson, this is no longer who I think of myself as, for I am cursed. Not as you might imagine by one of those pathetic so called Death Eaters and their grandstanding master Voldemort. No I suffer from a much more malicious evil, one that does not set out to rule or conquer, like so many who use the darkness against its will. No I am afflicted by an evil that exists only to bring suffering. I am a captive of the Raven, and it will kill me, as surely as the sun rises each day.

Why have I been afflicted so? I find myself unwilling to share that knowledge, for I committed an act of great evil, which I shall not record here. I confess myself unwilling to relive it. But please, do not leave in revulsion, for I would tell you of two things. First, the circumstances in which I committed this crime; and second, the way in which I redeemed myself.

Before I continue, know this; I would do it again, without so much as a hesitation, to save that which I love. Perhaps you will one day understand why. However I would tell you of the first stone, and the depth of the treachery that pervades our world.

Have you ever been to the Ministry of Magic? I must presume that you have, and if you have not, my words simply cannot describe it to you, and I shall not try. Being, in the public eye, an upstanding member of The Wizangamot, and the head of the department of Magical Accidents and catastrophes I find myself in its interior somewhat more than I might like. I am a solitary person at heart, and I find the constant crowds to be less than relaxing. One of the reasons that I like my job is that it frequently takes me out of the office and into a variety of interesting and often dubious locations.

Of course, this is not the main reason. The main calling of my station is to periodically investigate the sights of major magical disasters. Not for the head of department the chores of splinch reversal and routine obliviation; the tedious false alarms and referrals to other departments. No I only deal with the major catastrophes. Big explosions and mass cover ups, with the main reasons for each often being an unknown artefact of power, in other words; just what I'm looking for.

My first find was the stone of Vas. This is how it happened.

I was sitting in my office, feet up on the desk, horrible dress robes hung in the corner, pretending I was savouring the memory of my new promotion, mainly for the benefit of the massed sycophants who popped their heads through my door at annoyingly regular intervals to simper over me and drop hints that they were ready for a pay rise, the fools. I reality I was dealing with a crushing headache and was in no mood for office politics. I hadn't 'been out' in a while, and Raven was making its feelings on the matter known.

So it was with barely concealed glee that I acknowledged the report of a large magical fire somewhere in the West Country. Responding to the messenger in a suitably serious fashion, I was soon hurrying to the apparition point wearing my favourite combat robes ( in my experience it's always best to be prepared ), a gift from a close friend. The robes now have a number of modifications, all my own work, many of which have got me out of a few tight spots.

I was greeted at the arrival point by a flustered junior employee, who's expression was reminiscent of one who has just realised that their totally out of their depth. He wordlessly pointed in the direction of the emergency, although by that time I had already pushed past him and was hurrying down the street towards the all too visible fire a short distance away.

As I drew closer I noticed the numerous figures in cloaks scurrying around the edges of the conflagration and spraying it with water, and as I drew closer still I noted the almost complete ineffectiveness of this tactic. Slowing down a bit I move up to one of the wizards further away from the flames.

"What's going on here" I asked. Not having noticed my approach, what with all his attention being on the fire in front of him, the addressed man jumped about three feet into the air and clumsily spun to face me wish a shouted oath, his wand drawn.

Upon taking in my appearance, and no doubt the lack of a visible wand, he visible exhaled. "By Merlin you scared ten years off of me life there, make no mistake." He stowed his wand away, and underneath his plain brown robe I saw the uniform of the Unspeakables. Before I could enquire as to why his department was present, he had turned back around to observe the flames, as if I had never addressed him in the first place.

I have often noticed in my years at the Ministry that the Unspeakables like to think of themselves as above us mere commoners, and I have often been treated with disdain, and on one or two occasions overtly snubbed, so this particular rudeness came as no great surprise to me. Choosing not to try and engage him in what would almost certainly be a futile conversation, I instead went in search of another member of my own department.

Following my nose, or more appropriately my ears, I soon found two such people. They had somehow deigned to make themselves heard over the shouts and other chaos of the surrounding area, and I recognised them almost instantly. The tall one on the right was David Blent, a dark humoured and dark tempered giant of a man, with a talent for making his opinion well know that was matched only by his ability to never waver from his point of view. I have long suspected his death eater sympathies, and though he carries no dark mark I believe it only to be due to his unwavering belief in his own superiority to all other. His opponent was one Rose Vhaldelt, also known as Sneaker, although not to her face. A woman of medium build and modest good looks, she seemed to have a special talent for popping up where you least expect her, often near the end of a private conversation. Handy with her wand and with a fair bit of power behind her on the rare occasions she ever saw fit to lower herself to fieldwork she wasn't someone to be taken lightly. I have little time for her and her office politics.

Ever since they started together in the department, the same year after me in fact, they became bitter rivals almost immediately. He disliked her sneaking habits and contradictory statements along with her snobbery, almost as much as she disliked his overly large male ego. There is only one thing that unites them, and that is the belief that they belong in whatever position I just got promoted to. Without being overly modest, I have to confess that I was somewhat better than them at my job, although neither would admit it. And so it was that I rose up the ladder of the department one step ahead of them at all times. Something that was simply inexplicable and terrible in their eyes. Not that I much cared.

I strode over to the two them and imposed myself somewhat rudely upon their consciousness with two well aimed stinging hexes. They glared at me. "What's going on" I asked calmly, before they had a chance to turn their righteous wrath on me. Somewhat taken aback by my deceptively calm tone, and no doubt slightly restrained by the respect they had to show me by dint of my superior position, they proceeded to tell me, in a highly contradictory fashion, just what the hell was going on.

As it turns out, they had no idea, and could only tell me two useful things. The first was that the fire was almost certainly caused by a magical artefact of some dubious nature ( As to how it came to be there they had several loudly voiced and unlikely explanations, which I soon felt compelled to cut short with another pair of stinging hexes ). The second, slightly more alarming and exiting point of note, was that the fire turned all things it touched into clear glass. Apparently one of the junior members of the department had found this out the hard way, and was now en route to St Mungos, to see if they could do anything with his leg

Tuning out the now resumed argument over the causes of this phenomenon by my esteemed co-workers, I paused to consider the full implications of what I had just heard. Fire and glass, it would fit the pattern, although whether it was dark or light remained to be seen. For the first time in over three months my spirit lifted. Grimly I allowed myself a small grin of triumph, although the fact that all my efforts had turned up less than the blindest of luck did somewhat gall me. Swiftly I decided on a course of action

With a final pair of hexes I once again regained the attention of my co-workers, and told them in no uncertain terms that they where to do as they were told and stay exactly where they were. I'm sure the blatant implication that I was their superior was not lost on them as well as the clear snub, and they both had dutifully murderous expressions on their faces as I turned and walked away from them, but I was feeling just a bit too pleased with myself to care. Something I would regret, in time.

As I approached that flames I put up the strongest shield I knew and then cast a specialised water bubble charm, more commonly used for work underwater, but could suit my purposes with only a little thought. The flames licked against the borders of my protection, and I paused, ready to jump back at short notice. My makeshift protection worked however, and with an acceptable drain on my concentration and power, so I moved forwards into the building.

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This is a bit of an experiment and hopefully part of a series of short stories, each consisting of around three to five chapters of about this length. If anyone could let me know whether it was ok i'd be grateful, I know I'm prone to a bit of over dramatisation, and also if the length was suitable or whether it could do with being a bit longer.


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: **I don't own nofin gov, ceptin the cloves on me bak. Please don't whip me yur honor

Chapter 2

--- / ---

It was a strange sight, now that I was closer I could clearly see the effects of the flames on the building. Where most of the structure had been turned to glass, where the fire had been at work longest it had melted and formed other shapes. The fire itself definitely had some sort of intelligence, and was actively probing every inch of my defences, trying to find a way in. Hoping I had not left it one I hurried through the main door and ducked under a fallen beam.

Trying to orientate myself on the move I passed what looked like a muggle that had been caught in the flames, but I couldn't be certain because its face had been wiped smooth. Whatever it was it was made of glass and was clearly not yet dead. I blew it apart with a Reducto curse and scanned the room for any more. Finding none I decided to try the doors in order around the room. The first was either locked or jammed and the second led only to a toilet, but the third opened into what I guessed was once a kitchen.

Realising that whatever was the cause of all this could well be concealed in amongst the food and groceries contained in the kitchen I started to search the room.

One of the greatest ironies of my curse was that I kept me alive so that I might suffer for longer, and in doing so increasing my chances of freeing myself from it. In this case Raven showed me the danger in my mind, and I dropped to the floor just in time to avoid having my head removed by a wicked looking blade of glass. I kicked back, adding Ravens strength to my own and felt the satisfying crunch of impact as whatever was behind me lost one of its legs

I rolled over onto my back, wand in hand, ready to finish off my foe. Only to discover that it was already dead, shattered into a million small pieces of glass which lay twitching on the floor in a pile. I didn't have much time to think about that though, because two more of the blank eyed humanoids closed in for the kill

I flicked my left hand at one and a small dart, no larger than my little finger, flew out and embedded itself in the chest of the closest one as I blew the other one apart with a trio of Reducto curses. The dart was one of my most recent inventions that, when it hit, could either plant some very strong suggestions in the mind of the caster, not quite the imperious curse, but close, and most definitely illegal. As a secondary function they could also self destruct, and not in a subtle manner. Due to the utter failure of the dart to control the probably nonexistent mind of the glass man, I chose to activate the second, glass fibres impacted on my shield as the final automaton spread itself across the room in a colourful explosion of gold.

This was looking better all the time, now the artefact had all three call signs of a stone, and I thought that I recognised this particular one as the stone of Vas, although I do not claim to be any expert. Swiftly finishing the search of the kitchen I moved through another door, that took me deeper into the house.

I searched three more rooms before I found the stairs leading down into the basement. The presence of four more of the glass men standing around it also seemed to make it clear that I wasn't supposed to be searching down there. A bludgeoning curse to the head proved sufficient to kill the first and the second fell to another of my darts. The third ran at me with unnatural swiftness, and would have impaled me in the head if I had been any normal human. But I am not normal. Using the Ravens powers over myself, I ducked under the fist blade and met the second with a cutting curse that shattered most of the things arm, Ironic that the curse meant to kill me routinely saves my life. Spinning I delivered a powerful punch to the abdomen of the third as it tried to move around me, following up with a series of cutting and exploding curses that disintegrated it.

The fourth retreated, and I drew my short dagger from its concealed position in my boot with my free hand. It was wary now, and every time I tried to close the distance to it danced back out of the way, dodging my curses with a perfect grace I knew no mere human could ever match. Luckily for me I didn't need to. Channelling my power again I cleared my mind, and wordlessly disintegrated the near immobile glass man with a nasty variation of the bone shattering curse, that will instead shatter anything it touches that can be shattered. One of my personal favourites

I ran down the stairs to the basement, aware that the flames where constantly eating away at my shield. I needed to finish this swiftly. The room was full of smoke, but I could still make out enough to realise that I was in a large, unused room. At the centre a stone was suspended in a magical field that glowed with a golden light, tinged with streaks of earthy brown and flashes of fire.

I had found it. The first stone was within my grasp, and I could feel the excitement running through me. In one swift move I crossed the distance to the stone and reached out to grab it, but my hand passed right through it with no effect, the colours playing around it undisturbed.

After casting a few detection spells and studying the spot for a while I was stumped. Where was it? I knew it must be close, the magic being controlled was too great to originate from any distance away, and this was clearly the focal point of what I had seen from outside. I bent down to study the floor where the light originated, and noticed two things. First that the light appeared to continue down into the floor; and second a wicked looking glass blade was now occupying the space my neck had been in a few moments before.

Thanking whatever luck had saved me from decapitation, I rolled forwards, right through the illusionary stone and turned, just in time to see the blade rushing towards my abdomen, I threw myself to the right, my shield of water clearly slowing my attacker enough that I could get away again, but I could feel it draining my strength more now.

A third time the automata lunged at me, and this time I rushed forwards, deflecting the blade with my dagger, and trusting my mind into whatever its consciousness was. To my surprise I found myself in my own mind, and my surprise was such that I never saw the next blow coming towards me. It hit the right side of my ribs, and bodily lifted me to the other side of the room, where I was barely able to slow myself down enough with a wandless charm that I did not end up looking like a seeker on the wrong end of a Wronski Feint

My ribs where clearly broken, and I had lost hold of my wand and knife, and just to make things even better when I had been hit I had felt a huge drain on my endurance, and with the magic required to save myself, I was painfully trying to suck in air. No time to think about breathing though, the thing was already back on top of me, and I had to roll to the side to avoid being impaled on that blade again. Scrambling to my feet I noticed that the sword seemed to have shattered against the wall, although the glass man came at me regardless, and the next couple of minutes was filled with no thoughts other that avoiding the still lethal looking half blade of what must actually be a golem, since it's lack of consciousness clearly denoted control from an outside source.

Having regained my breath by now I banished the thing to the other side of the room, and used the few moments to consider. What was controlling it? There was two possibilities; First the stone, but I doubted it had the strength for conjuration and control of a magical object, and I would have found the remnants of the stones control system, not my own mind in its. Which leads me to the other possibility: that I was the one controlling it. But that was clearly not correct, as I would notice the drain on my magic.

But of course, I _had_ felt a drain; when it hit me into the wall and similar lesser occurrences when they appeared with objects that I knew to be real such as the one I hit with my dart, that I had ignored at the time, and my hand had passed straight through the stone. Smiling to myself I reached into my own mind and, after a few moments looking found the tendril of foreign thought, cleverly concealed. I seized it and pulled, hard.

One of my most useful assets is my force of will, especially when driven by self preservation. I pulled at the tendril with all my strength, but it did not come away as easily as I had been expecting, and I redoubled my efforts. The air around me grew hotter, and beads of sweat appeared on my hands as I used all my will to move the mind on the other end closer to me. After what seemed like an eternity of pulling, although can only have been a few dozen seconds, a spot on the floor near my feat began to crack and boil, the power of my mind magic manifesting itself in the real world, and with a crack and a shower of stone the floor erupted outwards. I caught the small glowing lump in my hand, cleaned the mud off of it, and examined it with my mind and hand.

And realised I had done it. I had the stone, now all I had to do was get out and home. Know knowing that the golems where harmless, and in fact had never even existed, that should have been a simple task.

I had forgotten the Unspeakables; Law unto themselves.

The disarming curse tore the thing from my hand before I even registered that they had entered the room, the fire having disappeared now that I controlled the stone. I was too tired to protest as the ministry official smirked at me before pocketing the stone and apparate away, his fellows joining him and I groaned as Sneaker poked her face around the door and gave me a condescending look as I fell backwards onto the floor.

I sighed and began to clean up the mess.

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End file.
